


The Dance Between a Devil and a Demon

by monierity



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: Deception, Enemies to Lovers, Hate Sex, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Manipulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Season/Series 02, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25648207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monierity/pseuds/monierity
Summary: Set at the beginning of season 2 where - after a month of acting as normal as possible but still having no time to himself - Dexter tries a new way of getting Doakes to back off
Relationships: James Doakes/Dexter Morgan
Comments: 40
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> welp this little pool noodle has like no fics so I guess even if my skillz aren't great! adding something is better than just rereading Black Dahlia by SpicyReyes for the nth time... How do poeple write good??? idk! I'm not a writer and haven't written anything in literal years so this story isn't great! but welcome to the hell that is the Dexter/Doakes fandom! I took some lines from the beginning of season 2 episode 1 if anything seems familiar

38 days, 16 hours, and 12 minutes.

It had been 38 days, 16 hours, and 12 minutes since Dexter had saved his sister and killed his brother.

It had been over a month and in that entire time he hadn't had a single second to himself. Between Debra sleeping (or more acurrately, not sleeping) in his appartment and Sergeant Doakes following his every step when he wasn't at home; they made sure of it.

Doakes was a human blood hound incited by the scent of darkness. He had gotten a quick sample of Dexter's hidden passanger and now he would not allow that trail die.

Dexter's devil had danced with his demon, and it seemed the fiddler's tune was far from over.

The urge to finish what they had started swam inside Dexter. The thought was an angler fish, hidden in the depths of Dexter's mind. Beautiful to look at from a distance and usually easy enough to enjoy glimpses at it without being fooled into being consumed by it. However the longer he went without feeding the other predators in his mind the more that bright light reflected day after day in Doakes eyes dragged him in. A promise of violence and a simple, beautiful, primal way to end everything. It would only take a small lapse in judgement from Dexter and they would be back at the shipping yard.

Dexter had years of practice ignoring the pull from Doakes. That edge to the Sergeant that called out to Dexter's darker side. Like calling to like. But the longer he played 'plain boring ol' dexter' with no way to let his dark passanger out to hunt, the deeper the dark promise in those eyes pulled at him.

His skin itched with the need to have one of his moon-lit play dates. His late night social calls. For weeks, he's known who was next. Who belonged to him. Dexter felt like he was spiralling towards a precipice. He just needed Doakes to take a night off and his only hope for that was to act relentlessly normal.

He bowled almost every night, and had gotten disturbingly good at it. He had family nights with Rita and the kids, bringing the kids gifts and being the perfect boyfriend.

Dexter's life was now duller than a butter knife - had been for weeks now, ever since he murdered his brother - but Doakes was a starved shark that had finally caught the faint scent of Dexter's blood soaked pastime. He wasn't going to let him go that easily. His brother would be so disappointed in him. Letting one man stop him from fulfilling his higher purpose.

Angel tried to convince Dexter to tell the Universe what he needed and what he needed right now... was to kill someone.

Angel might have found his answers in an Oprah rerun but it seemed the Universe wasn't willing to provide him with the opportunity he needed.

Maybe it was time for him to change up his approach to this problem.

* * *

Stepping out into the cold night air after a bitter loss against the Ally Cats - and an hour of supportive pity drinking with Angel and Masuka afterwards - Dexter wasn't suprised to see Doakes still around watching him from his car.

In the beginning, once things with Deb settle down and Dexter had enough time alone to realize that Doakes followed him everywhere and it wasn't going to be a one time thing, he tested out the boundaries of their new relationship. After some very interesting nights, Dexter knew that Doakes would wait for him until he either went home to Deb or to work. Doakes wasn't afraid to go out of his comfort zone to make sure that Dexter wouldn't be able to sneak away.

Dexter lifted the hand holding his bowling bag in half sarcastic greeting, half evidence of his alibi. Doakes smirked in response before opening the car door and making his way and over to Dexter. Usually Doakes was happy enough with just watching Dexter but it looked like tonight he wanted talk.

Dexter sucked in a short breath, his hand clenching at his bag before forcing himself to relax. He wasn't sure how the Sergeant could always pinpoint the moments the mask of "Dexter" was thinnest -everything too close to the surface, his dark passenger whispering in his ear how easy it would be to solve all his problems if he went against the code just this once- but he wasn't happy that Doakes always had to poke and push when he did. His patience had already been tested tonight from listening to Masuka and Angel using the loss as a chance to complain about the rest of their lives and personal issues.

He felt overly aware of how he was standing and what he was doing. His skin itchy and felt thin and tight over the storm of blood that was pulsing inside of him. It felt like he had walked into a trap like some sort of prey and he was not prey.

He watched Doakes slowly make his way over before neatly folding away his dark passanger and layering on his mask to hide the jaggered edges that remained. His mask wouldn't last long tonight. He had allowed the itch inside of him to grow for far too long. The darkness scratched at its cage leaving gouges inside him that grew almost unbearable at times. It was growing stronger inside of him everyday and he had no solution.

He knew talking tonight was dangerous with how long he had gone without any sort of release but blowing Doakes off would just stir up more issues later and letting the Sergeant see the edges of his darkness would ruin all that hard work he'd put into making Doakes forget about it in the first place.

But hiding his darkness didn't mean he couldn't push back a little as well. If Doakes was going to force a conversation when Dexter was in a bad mood then the Sergeant could feel just as annoyed with this situation as Dexter was.

Dexter couldn't help the smarmy grin that graced his face before it merged into his Simple Suburban Dexter mask. He knew it didn't work the way it was supposed to on Doakes and enjoyed it all the more for the flash of annoyance that crossed the Sergeants face when he brought this specific mask out.

"Well hello Sergeant. Were you out here, waiting for me, the entire time?" Dexter felt the befuddled expression form on his face before he even thought to make it. His body memory quick to twist his mouth into and expression that not even butter would melt in. The look of disgust on Doakes's face filled Dexter with a dark level of satisfaction.

"You should have come in for celebratory drinks! Masuka was telling the most interesting story about this video he saw onli-"

"Shut the fuck up freak, I don't want to hear about whatever freaky porn video Masuka found." Doakes growled, his face dark with disgust.

"Where are Masuka and Angel?" The Sergeant asked as if he hadn't been watching the door this entire time and knew that both Masuka and Angel had left before Dexter had.

Dexter felt something primal twitch inside him as his Darkness slid its claws deep into Dexter's mind, begging to come out and meet the challenge in Doakes eyes and tone. For it to come out so quickly and for it to be so fierce at such a simple question meant he was more strung out then he realised. It seemed like he couldn't do this tonight. He needed to shut down whatever game Doakes wanted to play and he needed to do it fast.

"I can't help you there, Sergeant. Why don't you ask them that yourself tomorrow at work?" Dexter sniped before heading off towards his car. He wasn't suprised when Doakes followed him but the coldness inside him grew. The whispers drawing his attention to all the ways Dexter could end this conversation quickly and satisfyingly.

All he needed to do was open his bowling bag. Doakes wouldn't even question it. A quick spray to his eyes with the bowl cleaner to disorientate him before shoving the nail scissors into his carotid artery. The blood would be messy but it would be over quickly enough. Doakes had been stalking him for weeks now and the Sergeant himself had provided Dexter with enough circumstantial evidence at stalking.

Doakes being out in the empty parking lot of the bowling alley, hours after sitting in clear view during Dexter's match against the Ally Cats was making the voices scream at how right now would be the perfect time. Doakes reputation for bullying Dexter and his past as an army veteran would make it all too easy to play victim.

Dexter closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he tried to bring himself back to the here and now. He was "Simple Suburban Dexter" and "Simple Suburban People" didn't murder people with bowling accessories. Well not beyond their imaginations anyway. Dexter has shaken a few hands after winning a game only to see something very familiar reflected in his opponets eyes.

Dexter shook his head as he got to his car and very deliberatly put his bowling bag away. He had a code to follow and no matter how much easier it would make his life the Sargeant didn't fit into his criteria. Dexter closed the car door with a bit more force than necissary before taking a small breath and turned to face Doakes.

"Is there anything I can help you with tonight Sergeant?" Dexter asked, his voice more harsh then he would usually allow it. Doakes eyed him up before he stepped forward, standing right in Dexter's face.

"You know what Morgan? Yeah you can help me. There's this little question I've been asking myself recently. I'd like to know how a creepy lab geek who lives such a boring life and goes bowling every other night knows how to fight head to head with an ex-army ranger." Dexter felt smugness mixed with a small bit of apprehension at that. He knew he was good. He had to be more than just good to take down some of his targets but hearing it put like that made a small part of him happy. Dexter knew that his martial skills were another reason that Doakes wasn't just letting everything go. The Sergeant was after a fight and had sensed the predator inside of Dexter and wanted a go at it.

"It's called keeping fit Sergeant, maybe you should try it." Dexter snarked as he watched the other mans eyes light up at the challenge. The Sergeants instincts were too good for this little game but that just made pushing him all the more fun.

Doakes forced Dexter to remember all the training Harry had given him in hiding his true self. It was a game of wits and instincts where Dexter had the upper hand and yet even then that sometimes wouldn't be enough. Doakes's ability to sniff out bullshit was not something to be underestimated.

"'Keeping Fit'? Is that what it's called? That's interesting." Dexter watched as the Sergeant stepped back a step and let his arms rest almost relaxed at his sides. Dexter let his body relax similarly knowing what looking relaxed actually meant on a trained fighter. Doakes was clearly spoiling for a fight tonight and Dexter was getting to the point where he might just let him get what he wanted.

"So how do you do that? I've never seen you go to the gym or even a fucking Zumba class."

"Careful Sergeant, someone might get the wrong idea. With how you've been following me the past month and now all these questions about my workout regime... Are you asking me out on a Zumba class date?"

Dexter only had a second to curl his body into the impact as Doakes went in for a gut punch. It seemed like the Sergeant was a bit of a one trick pony when starting fights. Dexter reached out and took a handful of Doakes's shirt and used the momento of Doakes punch to swing him back towards the car. Dexter slammed the Sergeant into the side of the car knocking the breath out of him before taking a punishing grip on his throat.

He watched the well of emotions flash too quickly to read through Doakes's eyes before he leaned in, pressing his face up against the Sergeant's ear.

"Is this what you wanted?" Dexter asked in a whisper as he pressed his hand down harder around the Sergeant's throat feeling the carotid artery try to pump blood beneath his hands. Enjoying the way it struggled to throb beneath his fingers.

He felt Doakes breath struggle under his hands.

He felt powerful.

He should be stopping himself. This was against the code. The Sergeant hadn't done anything to become a target for Dexter. He had no justification for continueing this fight but even with those thoughts at the forefront of his mind Dexter knew he couldn't stop now.

The need for this fight had built up for too long. He wanted to feel that pulse drip down his fingers and finally put an end to its siren song. Dexter pressed closer. His face edged closer to that hypnotizing beat. It didn't smell like the blood he could almost feel covering his skin. Doakes smelt like aftershave and sweat and something else beneath it all that he couldn't quite place. He wanted more of it. He wanted to see if the Sergeant tasted the same as he smelt or if there were even more layers.

Dexter jerked as he felt something press against his cock which had gotten to a solid half mast without him even noticing. The pressure forced him back into reality, the foggy state of bloodlust he had sunk into receded leaving the world harsher and slightly disorientating.

Doakes was laughing, small breathless things, as he pressed his knee harder into Dexter. He supposed it shouldn't have shocked him as much as it did. His body could react in some unprodictable ways and although he had enough practice ignoring some of his baser needs, they still happened. He wanted to get back into the fight and forget about his badly timed physiology when a thought hit him.

Maybe this was the way to get Doakes to back off?

Rita was the first person Dexter had been with to not back off in disgust after Dexter had tried to get intimate. People seemed to realize just how empty inside he was whenever Dexter allowed them to get close enough. That's why Rita was so perfect for him. She was broken enough herself not to be frightened off by Dexters jaggered edges.

All Dexter had to do was play the homophobia card and he probably didn't even need to go too far with it. He hoped the Sergeant's history as ex-military would make him place whatever people realized about Dexter when he got intimate into a nice little homophobic box and not look into it too deeply. 

It might be a little difficult to work with him afterwards but everyone in the precinct knew Dexter was in a committed relationship with Rita so the damage Doakes could do with rumours that Dexter liked men was limited. Most poeple would assume Doakes was just using another term to insult him. No matter how this went Dexter doubted the Sergeant would be comfortable with continueing his nightly activities of stalking him if he could just play this right anyway. 

Dexter smirked to himself and thanked the universe for this new pathway and then sunk his teeth into the Sergeant's neck and pressed down against the thigh that was so graciously placed exectly where he needed it. 

Dexter's blood surged, pumping a familiar beat in his ears.

The thrill of being able to hunt again, even if it was a slightly different way to what he truely wanted, was exactly what he needed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Chapter 2! I know this one is shorter and it took forever but! it's here!  
> I have come to the conclussion that dialogue sucks and every single other fanfic author out there who can nail that shit has sold their soul for that ability and I would like to know where so I can too. (the answer is to the time and practice demon and i respect that so goddamn much but i would also like a better and simpler answer plz)
> 
> Also thank you so much for everyone who left kudo's and comments on the first chapter! aaaaaaaahhhhhh you guys are seriously just amazing

Dexter hummed into the Sergeants neck as he heard Doakes swear and jerk his head back against the car with a loud thunk.

He clearly hadn't expected Dexter to capitalize on the opportunity that the Sergeant had so graciously provided.

Dexter felt a shiver go down his spine as his body tingled with anticipation. He pressed down harder with his lips and started sucking against the Sergeant's skin, willing for another intense reaction.

Doakes let out another grunted "motherfucker" from the quick change in pressures and brought his hand up into Dexter's hair trying to pull him away from his neck. The tug sending another wave of lust straight through Dexter.

He was a bit suprised at just how good that small reaction from Doakes and the knowledge that he had finally caught him made him feel.

He usually prefered his victums gagged and tied down so thoroughly that they could do nothing more then die. Or at least for his sexual partners to be quiet enough not to take him out of the moment with their grunts or cries.

Harry had been very careful when he created his rules for Dexter. He made sure to always specify the need for silence and made sure Dexter knew he wasn't allowed to enjoy the act any more then was necissary. Dexter didn't think Harry was aware that his strict set of rules on what Dexter could and couldn't enjoy had taught him how to find pleasure in the absence of stimulus but he hoped Harry had never found out.

It seemed that like always when he was dealing with Doakes, something had fallen through the cracks of Dexter's psyche and somehow managed to make the Sergeant's reactions sit very differently inside of him. 

He wanted more of those reactions. More pained grunts. More short choked breathes and grumbled swears. He wanted more and more.

Dexter pulled back a little to rearrange them slightly, taking his right arm and running it down the Sergeant's chest before he pressed hard into Doakes hip and pushed him further against the car. His fingers gripped harshly into the Sergeants hip bone as he crowded him in, tugging at the top in his way.

It had been so long without any sort of relief and to finally have Doakes in his control like this was more than intoxicating. Dexter felt like he was drowning. 

He wanted to rip and tear until he could feel the sticky wetness of Doakes blood on his hands. Until Dexter could feel every single one of those amazing flinches. Until he could slide a knife right into the Sergeant's throat and feel every shiver and every jolt that he made as Dexter drowned in his blood. 

Just as Doakes gave an especially hard tug at Dexter's hair pulling him from the hold on his neck, Dexter felt it was time to take a page out of the Sergeant's book and pressed his knee down between his legs and pushed hard.

Dexter's world seemed to shink for a second as his sole focus turned to the Sergeant's face. He wanted to see how the former army ranger would respond to this sort of advance. He wanted to watch the disgust spread across his face. The fury burn behind his eyes. He wanted to see the flash of emotions behind Doakes' eyes that proved that Dexter had won.

The reality was a bit dissapointing for Dexter. It hadn't sparked much of a reaction from Doakes at all, especially considering how he responded to getting bitten. It seemed that it would take more then a leg pressed up against his cock to bring out the proper disgust and sweet, vindicating feedback he wanted from the Sergeant.

Not to be caught out, Dexter kept moving and rubbing his thigh against Doakes. Dexter found that he quite enjoyed the easy movement of it, with every push forward he could get some much needed pressure himself. It was on an esspecially hard push forward when Dexter felt something brush back against his leg. It seemed that instead of the expected reaction of shock, aggravation or disgust, another development was happening down there for Doakes as well.

Dexter felt part in him stir to attention. Something was happening here that his mind couldn't quite piece together but it was too much of a dangerous and addictive situation to even think of stopping now to figure it out.

Even with Doakes looking slightly down, his head was still pushed back enough to give Dexter an easy access point to the Sergeant's neck. Eyeing up the clear angle that Doakes had "provided" to his throat, Dexter felt emboldened. He had Doakes right where he had always wanted him. Left hand wrapped tight around the Sergeant's throat as he kept his head pressed back against the car. Right hand and leg keeping him steady as he used Doakes's leg to get that wonderful friction.

Dexter knew he had to use everything at his disposal to get more of those compelling sounds and who was he to turn down what was so nicely set up for him.

The spot where he had first bitten into Doakes called to him. It was already starting to bruise nicely and it would only take a tiny amount of attention for that blood to go from internal to external but now wasn't the time for it. He had always wanted to place his mark on the Sergeant and now was just too good of an opportunity for Dexter to do it again and again and again.

He chose a spot just below the Sergeant's throat, right on his clavicle, and started to suck softly in the hope that changing the speed of thing would spark off another reaction. It would be an easy enough spot to hide usually but it would force Doakes to button up his standard polo's all the way and Dexter knew people at work (his mind jumped straight to LaGuerta) would definitely comment on that minor change.

The pay off was instantanious but not in any way Dexter had wanted or planned for.

Doakes gave a violent jerk, a quick exhale escaping his lips before he used all this strength to jerk Dexter's head back and got his other arm between them and pushed Dexter back. 

Dexter almost growled as he was pushed back.

He hadn't been done yet. 

They weren't done yet.

The shove had dislodged Dexter's hand free from it's choke holds and forced him to stumble a few steps back. His hand ripped from where it had been holding the Sergeant's hips in place, pulling his shirt loose with it.

Dexter wasn't sure how to react, his brain still running circles. Why was one hard bite seemingly ok but another softer one was too much? Why hadn't he just gone in as quickly as he could to make as many as he could? Why hadn't he just tied Doakes up so he wouldn't escape?

Doakes pushed forward as Dexter was forced to take a step back, grabbing him by the collar. He twisted his fist in Dexter's collar to create a proper hold and used his weight to flip their positions.

Dexter's back was to the car and before he could even think about trying to get the upper hand again, Doakes had him pressed back against the car in a mirror of their previous arrangement. 

Dexter's arms gripped at the wrist in the Sergeant's hands. One arm pressed down by his side and the other across his chest as Doakes pressed his forearm down across Dexter's throat. It was both a restraint and a threat.

He was trapped.

This wasn't right. This hadn't been what he wanted.

Or was it? 

His Dark Passenger raged on inside him, leaving gouges in his mind. Dexter had thought letting it out to play for a bit would sooth the starved beast. Instead, the taste of a forbidden prey, lush and even better then either of them could have imagined, had twisted into a snare trap leaving them caught. The whip lash of events had it lashing out in a deeper fury.

A small part of his mind remembered that he had a plan here and that this developement wasn't too far off of what he had wanted but the larger part of his soul screamed at him for letting his prey escape.

Dexter had to take a second to bite down on his lip and bring himself back to the moment. He had hoped the mask would be easier to slip on after letting his demon out to play but it seemed to have broken his mask up into small, almost unsuable, chunks instead. 

As he opened his eyes to assess the situation Dexter couldn't help but roam his eyes over the Sergeant in front of him

The Sergeant watched Dexter back. Suspicion heavy in his eyes as they both took the time to look the other over. His strong arm pressed hard against Dexter's throat.

Doakes looked amazing. Throat tinted with Dexter's handprint and bruised with his bites. 

His usually perfectly professional and tucked in top was in disarray and missing buttons. The new stretch of skin tantalizingly bare, with only the slightest hint of colour from where Dexter had placed his hand. Dexter eyed up the view with hunger before his eyes jumped up to linger over the marks he had left on the Sergeant's throat again. 

Doakes looked debauched and owned. Dexter felt his demon preen a little and settle with the knowledge that he was the one to do that to the Sergeant.

Doakes tilted his head to the side and gave him another look seeming to read exactly how Dexter was feeling. Dexter knew how he must look. His eyes alight with malice and a challenging tilt to his spit slick lips. He felt like he had given Doakes too much already with how he was being looked at but it just felt so good to finally let so many of his true feeling sit on the surface.

Sizing up the other man Dexter focused on what his original goal was. This past month he had lost a lot of ground in his game with Doakes but finally he had found a way to fight back. He might have enjoyed playing with Doakes but he couldn't forget that there was another game here that he wanted to win.

It seemed like an age before Doakes finally talked.

"Oi Morgan you better have a good reason for why you just gave me the motherfucker of all hickies." Doakes challenged.

Dexter smirked. It seemed the Sergeant was willing to give Dexter a way to bring this back.

"Well James, considering how you've been following me I figured this is what you were after."

Doaked let out a small huff before he slowly released the hand by Dexter's right side to skim over where Dexter had bitten him, checking for any blood.

Dexter knew he wouldn't find any. He hadn't broken the skin on either bite.

He had gotten close the first time and the shock of being pushed back almost made him bite down on the second but deep inside him Dexter knew he couldn't complicate whatever he was trying to accomplish tonight with his complex relationship with blood. Dexter usually found the lust for blood more satisfying than the reality anyway. 

Satisfied that he couldn't feel any blood, Doakes focused his attention back on Dexter.

"So is this really how you want to play this Morgan?" Doakes asked, a dangerous grin spreading across his face. Dexter felt like he was missing something again, alarm bells ringing in his head, before he watched in what felt like slow motion as Doakes crowded forward into Dexter's space. 


End file.
